


so I love you because I know no other way

by echoes_of_realities



Series: if I get old, old fashioned, would you get old, old fashioned with me? [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Hyperion Heights, The New Enchanted Forest, prior to the curse breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_realities/pseuds/echoes_of_realities
Summary: Since moving to the New Enchanted Forest, Robin seems to wake up from the oddest things; since coming home to Hyperion Heights, Margot seems to wake up from oddest things; no one realized that getting a first kiss would be so damnhard;some things never change.





	1. did you love her like it was the middle of your story?

**Author's Note:**

> I think I’m finally over that damn writer’s block so I’m writing a sequel to celebrate! The next chapter should be coming in the next couple week (hopefully lol).
> 
> Title from “Sonnet XVII” by Pablo Neruda.

Since moving to the New Enchanted Forest, Robin seems to wake up from the oddest things.

Today it’s a curious bird pecking at her exposed boot, her cloak bunched up by her knee, and for a second she’s so disorientated that she can’t quite figure out why the sun’s shining on her face instead of hidden behind dark curtains. Something shifts against her, blonde curls tickling her face, and she sighs in blissful realization. Alice grumbles and curls closer to her as Robin gently nudges the bird away with her toe. The bird squawks at her while Robin _shushes_ it, hoping it won’t wake Alice. The bird flies off and Robin sighs, squinting up at the sun as she tries to figure out roughly what time it is. The sun is bright but not too high yet, and the fire’s burnt out, but the best Robin can figure is that it’s morning; it’s been over a year and she’s still getting used to a world that works mainly on the position of the sun and not the clock on her phone.

Alice’s hand is fisted in Robin’s tunic under their cloaks, her legs curled up over Robin’s and her face buried in Robin’s neck. Robin smiles up at the canopy of leaves above them, both her arms wrapped tightly around Alice; she can feel Alice’s face scrunch up against her neck, and it’s honestly the best feeling in the entire world. Robin runs the fingers of one hand down the arm Alice has thrown across her stomach. Birds are stirring above them, squirrels chattering in the trees, some small game rustling the leaves. Robin feels more at peace in this moment than she ever has before. 

Alice mumbles something against her neck, shifting and curling closer to Robin, her fingers flexing against Robin’s hip and sending heat flushing under the skin of Robin’s neck. Alice keeps grumbling into her neck, her nose scrunching up in what Robin is sure is an adorably grumpy expression.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Robin murmurs.

Alice says something against her neck again, but Robin feels the vibrations more than sees them. A part of Robin buried (not so) deep down knows that waking up with Alice buried in her neck is exactly how she wants to spend the rest of her life, but that’s a thought that’s probably a little premature, so she just lets her hands tickle gently at Alice’s back to wake her up.

“Mo’ning, ‘obin,” Alice mumbles again, this time slightly more coherently. She shifts slightly so her words aren’t muffled by Robin’s neck anymore, “You’re comfortable.” 

Robin’s blush deepens from her neck up into her cheeks. She’s searching for something to say that isn’t _marry me_ , because Robin would like to at least kiss Alice once before she proposes marriage, when her stomach growls, obnoxiously loud in the quiet of the clearing.

Robin’s pretty sure her face has never flamed more as Alice giggles loudly, warm puffs of breath against Robin’s neck. She stares wide-eyed up at the hints of blue sky through the leaves, kinda hoping the ground will open up and swallow her whole. “Well,” she manages, “guess that’s our cue to wake up.”

Alice groans and holds Robin tight for one more moment before untangling herself from their cloaks and Robin’s legs, sitting up with her blonde curls all squished against the left side of her head. Robin giggles, forgetting her embarrassment for a moment, and reaches out to smooth the curls away from Alice’s face, her hand lingering just behind Alice’s ear, carefully cupping the back of her neck. Alice’s eyes are the brightest blue Robin has ever seen, glowing like they’re lit from within, and Robin doesn’t realize that their faces are drifting closer together until Alice’s eyes are swimming together into one and her warm breath is fanning across her face.

Robin’s eyes dart down and catch on pink lips and her heartbeat pounds everywhere throughout her body, her eyes just starting to drift closed when her stomach growls loud enough to rival the last one, and both girls jump a little, Alice falling backwards on her hands. Robin stares at her with wide eyes, her jaw slack and mouth agape. A slow smile spreads across Alice’s face, a quiet giggle surprising both of them, and then they’re both clutching their stomachs in laughter, sending the birds dozing in the trees around them skyward in surprise. Every time they start to calm down, one of them catches the grin on the other’s face and they burst into laughter all over again.

It takes a while, but they eventually calm down enough to sit up properly. Robin’s face is no longer flushed with embarrassment, just flushed with laughing so hard she’s a little out of breath. Alice truly does wonders for abating Robin’s embarrassment. Robin hands Alice’s blue cloak back to her, brushing off leaves and moss caught on the pretty fabric, before taking her own cloak and folding it up beside her, so she can reach for the pouch usually tied around her belt. “I don’t really have much for breakfast,” Robin admits as she pokes through the bags of dried meat and trail mix inside, “I thought I’d be eating at the tavern.” She sends Alice a grin to reassure her that she isn’t really disappointed by the change in plans. “I could probably go hunting if you’re really hungry, there seems to be lots of small game around here.”

Alice shrugs and smiles at her. “I have lots of food at my cottage. We can just snack on our way and eat lunch there since I know you’ll have some of your mother’s delicious trail mix in that pouch.”

Robin rolls her eyes fondly and sets her pouch aside. Her mom, despite having magic again, really took to the whole _small rural farm in the 1700s_ vibe that Emerald Acres Farm (and, to be quite honest, the entire realm) has going on. She even makes her own marmalade, which Robin is pretty sure has more to do with the fact that Robin once mentioned that Alice loves marmalade and less to do with the fact that either of them are particularly fond of homemade marmalade. 

(Honestly, the only person more frustrated with Robin’s inability to confess to Alice — or, as Robin’s mom calls her, _the cute blonde one_ — or kiss her than Robin herself, is probably her mom.)

“Of course I have her trail mix. She never lets me leave the house without it anymore,” Robin complains, though the grin Alice gives her makes her think she doesn’t pull of _petulant teenager_ quite as well as she used to anymore.

“And yet, she wasn’t home when you left this time,” Alice observes.

Robin, unable to come up with a good enough response to that, just scoffs and stands with a groan, her back protesting and sending shooting pain up her spine and into her neck. Alice bounces up easily, her limbs both graceful and wild as she stretches her arms high above her head, elongating the pale skin of her neck and curving her torso enticingly. Robin looks away quickly, bending to retrieve her cloak and retie it around her shoulders. Despite her sore muscles and the crick in her neck and the giant knot just below her shoulder blade, Robin’s pretty sure she’s never slept better.

A scuffing sound catches Robin’s attention, and she glances to see Alice kicking at the smouldering fire, stomping out embers and shoving dirt over the remaining ash with her toe. Robin shakes her head and bends to retrieve her pouch and hatchet, tying them around her belt before swinging her quiver back onto her back, sorely wishing she had spent some time stretching before re-donning all her gear. She picks up her bow last, running one hand along the wood and picking out some grass stuck in the string nock on the tip of the upper limb. The wood is smooth and comforting under her palm as she inspects it for any flaws and, finding none that need immediate attention, she turns to Alice.

Alice grins at her as she stomps out the last of the embers, her cloak now tied around her shoulders as well. “Shall we?” she asks, holding out her hand with a dramatic bow.

Robin grins, shifting her bow back to her left hand and takes Alice’s hand in hers, feeling rather domestic as she leads Alice out of the clearing, “We shall.” 

They make it almost two hours down the path, about half-way to Alice’s cottage, before Robin’s stomach growls loud enough to be heard again, and she rolls her eyes as Alice giggles. “Let me,” Robin mumbles, untangling her hand from Alice’s and immediately missing the warmth. She reaches for the pouch at her waist, pulling out a _Ziploc_ bag of trail mix. Her mom made be embracing all the old fashioned ways of this realm, but there are more than a few modern things that her mom has magicked into existence to make their lives easier.

Alice, always delighted to examine all the things Robin and her mom have from their world, grins and claps her hands in excitement as Robin passes the bag for her to look at. Alice rubs the slippery plastic material of the bag together, inspecting the snap of the seal and poking at the trail mix inside. “This is amazing,” Alice marvels.

Robin smiles softly at Alice’s childlike wonder, unabashedly and openly excited about something as mundane as a plastic bag. There were times, more often than not, that Robin wondered how she ever got so lucky as to met someone as adorably perfect as Alice. “It’s called a _Ziploc_ bag,” Robin explains, reaching over to point at the blue-purple seal, “You just pinch these together to seal them and pull the tabs to open the bag.”

Alice tugs on the tabs and pulls the bag open and then moves to seal it, making a delighted noise when it reseals itself. “Incredible,” Alice murmurs, tipping the bag upside down and watching in awe as the trail mix stays in the bag. Robin glances at her, another soft smile spreading across her face, glad she can amaze the same girl who thinks watches that count time backwards are fairly normal. 

“Even better,” Robin whispers as if telling a secret, “is the food inside them.”

Alice rolls her eyes with a wide grin as she pulls the bag back open. “Oh hush you. You’re the one starving not me.”

Robin shrugs and grins as she reaches for a handful of trail mix. “What can I say, I’m a growing girl,” she jokes. Alice giggles, even though Robin knows that wasn’t even all that funny, as she reaches for her own handful. She tosses the nuts and candies into her mouth, picking through and dropping the raisins bag into the back with a look of distaste. “What do you have against raisins?” Robin asks with a smile after a couple handfuls of Alice sorting through the trail mix.

Alice shrugs, chewing thoughtfully on her mouthful of raisin-less trail mix. “I don’t really know. I think it’s a texture thing.”

Robin nods in acknowledgement. “That’s fair, they’re really weird. You probably wouldn’t really like berries in yogurt either then.”

Alice shakes her head. “If they feel like raisins, definitely not.”

“Fruit cake?” Robin asks, wrinkling her nose.

Alice’s face twists in displeasure and she sticks her tongue out. “Blegh,” she agrees, “there’s nothing good about fruit cake. Dried cherries? Awful texture. The actual cake? Too dense and always too dry. And there’s _raisins_ in it. Who puts raisins in cake? You’re supposed to enjoy cake not try and force yourself to swallow it without spitting it out.”

Robin giggles at Alice’s rant, unable to hide the enamoured look on her face. 

“What?” Alice demands, a smile spreading on her own face and a giggle in her voice. “Don’t tell me you actually _like_ fruit cake?”

Robin shakes her head with a grin, “Oh no, of course I don’t.”

“Then what?” Alice asks, her smile crooked.

“Nothing,” Robin says, and then, remembering Alice’s reaction last night, she takes a deep breath of courage, “you’re just adorable.”

Alice’s eyes go wide with wonder, her smile shy and a blush emerging high on her cheeks. “Thank you,” she murmurs, reaching out to re-tangle their fingers. It means that Robin can’t actually eat, what with her bow in one hand and Alice’s hand in her other, but she finds she doesn’t really mind. Alice swings their hands together, glancing up at Robin with a bashful smile, and they continue down the path, the bag of trail mix forgotten in Alice’s other hand.

They soon reach a river bend where they stop for a short break, sitting on the gentle grassy slope down to the clear water. Robin sets her bow down as Alice props the bag between them, her legs knocking against Robin’s as she gets comfortable with barely any space between them. Robin pulls the dried meat out of her pouch and opens the bag, reaching for a piece before offering it to Alice, who is picking through another handful of trail mix, tossing the raisins into the river. 

“See even the fish don’t like these disgusting things,” Alice says, waving a hand towards the river with a dramatic flair. She turns and realizes that Robin is offering her some dried meat and takes some with a murmur of gratitude. “What is this?” she says around a mouthful.

“Uh, I think it’s deer?” Robin says uncertainly, inspecting the piece in her hand as if she could tell just from the look of it alone, “It might be elk though. I don’t really know, mom does the curing and preserving, I just do the hunting. And most of the eating.”

Alice bits into the chewy meat with a mumbled “It’s delicious.” 

“Mom’s pretty good at cooking, all things considered,” Robin agrees after a comfortably quiet moment as they snack.

“All things considered?” Alice asks curiously.

Robin nods. “Yeah, she lived in a palace for a really long time so she didn’t do much cooking,” she explains.

“Oh right, your mom is from Oz,” Alice says in realization.

Robin smiles at Alice, because most people like to remind her that she’s the child of the Wicked Witch, or that she’ll never be anything more than Robin Hood’s daughter, but not Alice. Alice always knows exactly what to say to make Robin feel like no one else has really seen her, who she truly is and who she wants to be, until Alice smiled at her. “Yeah, and then she had me, eventually. After this whole messy thing,” Robin frowns, “Nobody’s really explained what exactly happened though.”

Alice nods, her face open and thoughtful and a little sad. “Sometimes it’s best not to know the circumstances of your birth,” Alice agrees with a intimate kind of familiarity, staring at the water rushing past them.

Robin smiles wryly, “Yeah, ignorance is bliss in a lot of cases. Especially where my family is concerned.”

Alice continues to stare at the river for a long moment before turning to Robin. “I’m glad you’re here though,” she finally says, her voice soft.

Robin swallows thickly, her mouth suddenly really dry. “So am I,” she manages to whisper. 

Robin’s eyes remain caught on Alice’s for a long moment, infinite and deep and bright. Time stretches like Robin could stay in this moment forever, memorizing the way the blue of Alice’s eyes makes Robin feel like she got lost at sea, adrift in the endless blue of water and salt and sky. 

Some small game rustles the bushes and startles them both out of the daze they’re in, both blushing and smiling sheepishly as they look away. “We should probably get going,” Robin murmurs, her voice hoarse and crackling.

“Yeah,” Alice agrees, her own voice just a little bit strained. Robin zips up the bag of dried meat and trail mix and packs them away into the pouch at her waist before she stands up, grabbing her bow and then offering Alice a hand, which Alice accepts with a small smile. When Robin pulls Alice up, she ends up a lot closer than either of them expected, they faces mere inches apart and their chests brushing with every breath. Robin’s breath catches somewhere in her chest and she knows, somewhere deep in her bones, that this is finally _it_ , that _this_ will be the moment she’s been waiting for since Alice smiled at her in that yellow bug. Alice’s eyes are fluttering closed as she rises up on her toes, her face tilting towards Robin’s, when there’s rustling from the bushes and a shouted threat that basically boils down to _Put your weapons down and give us your valuables or else._

“Oh, come on!” Robin exclaims, nocking an arrow and turning to fire at an emerging bandit from the tree-line in one smooth motion. First the fire cackling last night, then her growling stomach this morning, and now this. If she didn’t know better, she’d be worried that the universe was actually fighting against her; honestly, if she isn’t able to kiss Alice soon she might seriously start to wonder about it.

The arrow catches the would-be thief in the fleshy part where his shoulder meets his armpit, lodging and sticking there through layers of cloth. He howls in pain as Alice sighs in disappointment beside Robin, unsheathing the dagger she keeps at her waist. “Every single time,” Alice mutters.

Robin hopes she’s talking about the interruption to their almost kiss, and not that bandits sneak up on her while eating lunch a lot. Robin nocks another arrow and scans the tree-line, eyeing a flash of black too high up in the trees to be the dark underbrush. She lets the next arrow fly, listening to the wail of pain and shock with smug satisfaction; it’s not her fault she’s a little grumpy from the interruption, it’s a totally reasonable reaction Robin figures, and besides, they’re _bandits_.

“C’mon guys,” Robin calls, nocking another arrow, “Just give it up.” Alice nudges her and nods towards the left of where the first bandit is stumbling back into the bushes. Robin nods and scans the trees, sending another arrow flying and shrugging when, instead of hearing a howl of pain, she hears a body dropping to the ground. _Close enough_ , she figures.

“My Nobin is a pretty good shot,” Alice calls. Robin fights a blush because _now is_ not _the time to get starry-eyed._ “I’d just give up while you’re ahead and mostly unscathed.”

There’s a rustling and two more men emerge from the bush, one with red-faced anger and embarrassment, and the other with some twigs sticking to his cloak from his dive into the underbrush.  Their armour is poorly fitting, their weapons held awkwardly, both fresh-faced and young, and Robin knows they’re probably fairly inexperienced bandits. Robin nocks an arrow and sends it at the first man, grinning and reaching for her next arrow when the shot lands true in the man’s thigh. She turns to aim at the second twig-covered man, but Alice’s dagger is already in the air, catching the man’s ear before it embeds itself in the tree behind him. The man screeches and drops his sword to clutch at his missing ear, glancing at the other man before they both turn, cursing and stumbling back the way they came. The bushes tremble wildly as the men flee, Alice and Robin catching each other’s gaze and bursting into giggles.

“That was easier than I thought,” Alice remarks after they’ve calmed slightly, striding forward to pull her dagger from the tree, wrinkling her nose as she bends down to wipe the blood on the grass.

“They probably figured we’d be easy marks, two _helpless_ girls,” Robin says teasingly, “Little did they know.”

Alice grins and rolls her eyes, re-sheathing her dagger. “They never learn, honestly.”

Robin shrugs and tries not to think of where they were right before they got interrupted, but with the memory of Alice’s breath on her face, she finds it nearly impossible not to get lost in a daydream.

“Robin?” Alice asks in concern, now only a few feet away from her. 

“Huh?” Robin asks dumbly, blinking quickly.

“Are you alright?” Alice takes another step closer, “You were staring into space.”

Robin’s face flushes and she shakes her head. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about— I mean, before we were interrupted—” Robin cuts herself off as she feels her face flush even deeper. “I mean— Sorry, that I zoned out.”

Alice is almost as close as she was before. “It’s okay,” Alice murmurs, her eyes on Robin’s lips. Robin’s breath catches again and she leans forward again, her eyes fluttering closed as Alice’s breath hits her face again.

Robin should really start suspecting it by now, but a rustling of some small game in the bushes causes them both to jump apart from each other. They stare at each other with wide eyes, Robin sheepishly giggling. “This happens to us way too often.”

Alice sighs in amused frustration and suddenly closes the distance between them. Before Robin realizes what’s happening, Alice’s hands are cupping her jaw and she’s being pulled down to Alice’s face, their lips finally, _finally_ , melding together.

Robin freezes for a split second before she completely melts into Alice, her bow dropping to the ground. Robin’s heart pounds all the way down to the tips of her fingers where the rise and clutch at Alice’s hips, her knees weak as Alice sighs against her mouth. Alice’s lips are pliant and soft under hers, and Robin is intensely aware of every single part of her body that is pressed against Alice; soft palms against her jaw, fingers tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear, toes pressed against hers, hips and stomachs and chests brushing with each airy inhale, noses and chins pressed together and eyelashes fluttering against the skin of her cheeks. Robin’s lips move against Alice’s with all the time in the world, slowly exploring every single part of her warm mouth, all of her nerve endings coming alive like they never have before. It is both better than Robin had ever dreamed and nothing like she had imagined. Alice is warmer and brighter and more _alive_ than any of her dreams had ever prepared her for. 

She tastes like the summer night, bright and warm and dusky, and she tastes like the ocean air, sharp and fresh and alive; she tastes like forever and home and infinite love.

Alice pulls away slowly, breathless and adoring, pressing her forehead to Robin’s, keeping their faces as close as possible. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time,” she confesses.

Robin smiles, nudging her nose along the length of Alice’s, pressing her lips to Alice’s again just because she can. “So have I,” Robin admits when she pulls back. Alice smiles so wide that Robin can feel her cheeks bunch up against hers as she pulls Robin closer and kisses her again. Robin smiles into the kiss and hums in delight.

Alice tastes of summer and nighttime and forever and forever and forever—

 


	2. or did you love her like it was the very start?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could have also been called "Margot and Tilly barely stop holding hands."

Since coming home to Hyperion Heights, Margot seems to wake up from oddest things.

Today it’s something hitting the window above her bed that rouses her, though at first she thinks it’s the door in her disorientated, half-asleep state. Margot groans and rolls over, pulling the covers over her head and hoping whoever’s at the door will just leave. She didn’t get to sleep until after three-thirty in the morning after dropping Tilly off, too wired and filled with butterflies to relax enough to drift to sleep after spending time with Tilly. The sun is shining brightly in her room from where she forgot to close the curtains of the window above her bed last night. All Margot knows is her ten a.m. phone alarm hasn’t gone off yet so it is far too early to actually get out of bed.

The knocking continues and Margot stares up at the ceiling, wondering who it is and why they won’t leave. Usually it’s just Remy panicking about something in the bar and not wanting Roni finding out, and generally Margot is more than happy to help with only minor grumpiness about being woken up; if she waits long enough, he’ll get the hint and leave or he’ll be desperate enough to call. Margot’s pretty certain that Roni is still buried under her own covers at her apartment a couple blocks away, or she’s dragging herself out of bed to greet an overexcitable Lucy; which is probably what Margot should be doing to stop the knocking.

It’s only when there’s a particularly loud _ping_ above her head that she actually realizes the sound is coming from outside her window and not from her front door. She groans and crawls out of her blankets, kneeling beside her pillow with a frown as she peers out the window, jumping with a gasp of surprise when a rock hits the window right where her face pressed up against it.

She pushes the old window open, sticking her head out and staring down into the small parking lot and back alley her room overlooks. Another rock is launched up and hits the glass above her head, bouncing against the angled open window and falling back to the alley.

“Whoever is doing that needs to know I am far to tired to deal with this right now,” Margot threatens.

There’s a scuffing of gravel and then Margot’s new favourite sound in the entire world as an accented, teasing voice drifts up to her, “Oh, speak again, bright angel!”

Margot grins instantly and leans further outside, using her elbows to balance herself on the windowsill to keep herself from toppling out of a second storey window. She looks down and searches the small parking lot behind the building, her smile widening when she sees Tilly emerge out from the shade of the adjacent building. “Hey, you,” Margot calls, squinting down. Tilly is slightly blurry without Margot’s glasses on, mostly just smudges of colour; dark army green hiding hints of blue, blonde curls a splash of gold haloed around a blotch of pale skin.

Tilly waves up at her, tossing a small rock up in the air with her other hand like a baseball. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Tilly calls.

Margot already knows today’s going to be a good day no matter what else happens. She grins, also knowing that it won’t fade from her face for a very long while. “What are you doing here so early?”

Tilly rocks back on her heels. “It’s after eleven,” she calls, a hint of mischief in her voice; even without seeing her, Margot knows that Tilly’s smile is that crooked one that promises the all best kinds of trouble.

“What?” Margot frowns, “Hang on.” She ducks back into her apartment, leaning over to grab her phone from the bedside table, only to find she’d apparently silenced her alarm and fallen back asleep over an hour ago. She throws her phone onto her bed and reaches for her glasses, shoving them back onto her face and ignoring how smudged they are. She leans back out the window and sees Tilly in stark precision. She’s still the prettiest girl Margot has ever seen and she’s glad she’s so high up because it means Tilly won’t be able to see her blush. “You’re right,” she calls.

Tilly’s laughter floats up to her. “Of course I am! Now, you owe me a bag of _Sour Patch Kids_.”

“It’s technically still before noon. A little early for candy, isn’t it?” Margot teases.

“That’s why I was thinking a brunch date?” Tilly asks, all confidently nervous, as if Margot would _ever_ refuse to spend more time with Tilly, “Since you slept through breakfast and all.”

Margot’s stomach growls on cue and she smiles down at Tilly. “That sounds great. Just give me about half an hour to get ready.”

Tilly nods enthusiastically and points a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the park a couple blocks away?” she offers.

“See you then,” Margot promises, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering all throughout her body at the prospect of another date with Tilly.

“See you,” Tilly calls up softly, scuffing the ground with toe and ducking her head down before she waves up at Margot with a grin and heads for the street.

Margot ducks back inside and closes the window. She takes a deep breath, before falling back on the bed and burying her flaming face in her hands, hopelessly smudging her glasses, her grin permanently stretched across her face. She gives herself about thirty seconds to attempt to control herself and corral the butterflies before she rolls out of bed. She unplugs her phone and heads straight to the bathroom, playing the newest happy playlist on her phone as she brushes her teeth (which definitely isn’t named _candy apples_ because they remind her of Tilly or anything). She’s out of the shower in record time, running a brush through her hair as she surveys her closet. Unable to decide on anything, she quickly opens the weather app on her phone and, seeing the time, quickly settles on her lucky pair of patchwork jeans and a t-shirt. Once the weather is loaded, she grabs her wool sweater too and tosses it onto the bed, before heading back to the bathroom to quickly blow dry her hair and fuss with her makeup for a couple minutes. She’s pretty sure she can dress pretty casual, since Tilly kinda sprung the date on her less than an hour ago, but she can’t really help the fact that she wants to impress Tilly, who always effortlessly looks even more beautiful every time she sees her. 

She throws her wallet in one back pocket and her phone in the other, shrugging on her sweater and tying her boots. She takes one last glance in the mirror of her bathroom as she passes it, sweeping her hair forwards over her shoulder to keep it out of the way (of what, she has no clue). She grabs her keys off the table and heads to her front door. She’s almost out of her apartment when she spots the package of _Sour Patch Kids_ on the table and rushes back to grab them and throw them in her sweater pocket.

Barely remembering to lock her door, she takes the stairs two at a time and waves at a startled Remy as she tears through the front of the bar and out the door, crossing the mostly deserted street and making it to the park with two minutes to spare.

She can see Tilly in the distance, sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed and propped up on her palms as she stares up at the sky. Margot half-jogs and half-walks across the park to Tilly, smiling softly when she realizes Tilly has spread a picnic out for them; a couple containers of food on an old, jean blanket. Tilly’s head is tipped back, a peaceful smile on her face as the sun lights it up, her eyes closed and her cheeks already a little pinked from the early summer heat. Her backpack is laying on its side near Tilly’s boots, her army green jacket thrown overtop of it; which means she’s just in her blue-green plaid shirt and purple shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows reveal lightly freckled arms and the rainbow bracelet sitting proudly on Tilly’s wrist.

“Tilly,” Margot calls softly, wishing she could just watch Tilly, completely relaxed and not plagued by anything, forever.

“Margot!” Tilly says, her sparkling eyes opening with an easy smile. “You’re exactly on time!”

“For you? Of course,” Margot blurts without thinking.

Tilly’s face quickly goes from one of surprise to something like wonder and Margot bites down on her tongue to try and stop the blush she knows is spreading across her face. Tilly is the prettiest girl she’s ever seen and she’s looking at Margot as if she just tasted something too sweet and Margot’s face is definitely flaming now.

“A picnic!” Margot says, perhaps a little too loudly. 

Tilly’s eyes never leave Margot’s face as she continues to smile sweetly at her. “I figured we could have a nice brunch before you start work.”

Margot’s face starts to cool down and she smiles. “That sounds perfect.”

“Oh!” Tilly says before Margot has a chance to sit. She leans over and lifts her jacket off her backpack, digging through the main pouch and hiding something with her body as she stands up. She turns around with a hand behind her back and a shy smile, pink blooming in her cheeks, digging the toe of her boot into the grass. “These are for you,” she says, pulling out a small bouquet of daisies from behind her.

Margot blinks, the butterflies in her stomach taking up residence in her chest and beating heavily against her ribs, her heartbeat pounding in the tips of her fingers and down into her legs. She feels too full of something bright and warm as she takes the bouquet, feeling overwhelmed. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” she murmurs.

Tilly shrugs shyly like it’s not a big deal, even though it kind of feels like it is. Margot searches for something to say that isn’t _marry me please_ because she doesn’t want to end up on _90 Day Fiancé_ or something, and she’d like to at least kiss Tilly once before she proposes marriage. “Thank you,” she murmurs instead as she takes the flowers, her fingers brushing Tilly’s and sending tingles up her arm and all the way to the back of her neck.

Tilly’s blush darkens, her blue eyes stark against the pink in her cheeks. “You’re welcome,” she murmurs back. Margot’s eyes catch on Tilly’s, time stretching between them as Margot tries to memorize the exact shade of Tilly’s blue eyes. Margot doesn’t even realize their faces are drifting towards each other until her stomach growls loud enough to startle them into jumping apart. 

Margot stares at Tilly, wide-eyed and hoping the ground will swallow her whole. Tilly’s face morphs from one of surprise to one of fond amusement as giggles start erupting from her. Margot joins in sheepishly, cursing her bad luck and still managing to marvel at how pretty Tilly’s laugh is. “Guess we should probably eat,” Margot eventually manages. 

Tilly nods, her smile bright, as she grabs Margot’s hand and pulls her down onto the blanket. “I made marmalade sandwiches first, but then I wasn’t sure if you liked marmalade so I made peanut butter and jam,” Tilly rambles as Margot settles herself crosslegged on the blanket, “but lots of people only like strawberry or raspberry, and then I wondered if you liked just peanut butter, so I made one of each. But then I realized I didn’t ask if you had any food allergies, so I made ham and cheese too. Oh! And there’s some cut up fruit and some berries too, in case you don’t like sandwiches.”

Margot stares at Tilly in wonder as she sorts through the containers in front of her, her anxious rambling incredibly adorable. “That’s so sweet,” Margot murmurs, reaching out a hand to still Tilly’s nervous fidgeting. 

Tilly looks up at Margot hopefully. “Yeah?” she asks earnestly.

Margot nods wordlessly, hesitating for only a moment before sliding her hand down Tilly’s forearm and tangling their fingers together. “Definitely,” she reassures. 

“Okay,” Tilly mumbles, nodding quickly. She one-handedly digs through her backpack to procure two bottles of water, handing one to Margot without releasing her hand. “What kind of sandwich do you want then?”

Margot smiles widely and ducks her head; Tilly’s holding onto her right hand, which will make eating a lot more difficult, but Margot doesn’t really care about that if it means she gets to hold Tilly’s hand a little bit longer. “Peanut butter and raspberry jam, please.”

Tilly grins and reaches for a pinkish-red container and passes it to Margot, who balances it on her knee to open it, while she reaches for a blue one, pulling out a sandwich that is, presumably, some kind of marmalade. They both bite into their sandwiches and eat them in comfortable silence, occasionally pointing out a particularly oddly dressed person walking down the sidewalk and jokingly narrating what their life might be like. Margot silently marvels at how comfortable it is to sit beside Tilly, their fingers tangled together and legs stretched out, knees knocking together. She’s never felt this at ease with anyone before. Sure, she’s been on a couple dates in high school, but that was way before she actually came to terms with being gay; and in the last couple years of travel she mostly focused on just getting as far away from Hyperion Heights as possible, moving from city to city so quickly she didn’t have time to even think about going on a date, constantly searching for something to fill the empty pit gnawing at her sternum, something that was always just out of reach somewhere beyond the sunrise. 

But sitting in the midday sun with Tilly’s hand in one hers, Margot doesn’t feel that hole inside her anymore, she just feels content. 

“Candy?”

Margot jumps a little and looks up at Tilly, startled out of her thoughts. Tilly’s holding a baggie of candy out to her, one of those assorted-make-your-own bags from convenience stores, with a soft, concerned smile on her face. Margot blinks quickly and then gives Tilly a reassuring smile. “Thanks,” she says, taking a handful.

Tilly smiles brightly and squeezes Margot’s hand gently as she picks through the bag, avoiding the little green and white frogs.

Margot chews on a coke bottle candy and grins at Tilly. “What, no froggies?”

Tilly pulls a face of distaste, her nose wrinkled and her brows scrunched together. “Blegh,” she complains, “they feel really weird.”

Margot plucks one from her hand with her thumb and forefinger, curling her other fingers around the rest of the candy so they don’t fall out of her hand as she rolls the candy around. “Yeah, they’re pretty weird,” she concedes.

“It’s the texture,” Tilly clarifies, her face still screwed up in disgust, “like raisins. Or fruit in yogurt. Or fruitcake.”

“But you like marmalade,” Margot points out, popping the frog candy into her mouth and chewing it thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but the fruit parts in their are more solid and peel-like and aren’t questionably textured as _squishy_ ,” Tilly explains with a crooked smile.

Margot laughs at that. “I suppose you’re right. Besides you’d be a pretty bad Englishwoman if you didn’t like marmalade.”

Tilly giggles. “Yeah, that’s true. But I didn’t really grow up with English traditions anyways, I just really like marmalade.”

Margot chews carefully on a sour gummy worm. “If you didn’t grow up with English traditions can I ask about your family? If you don’t mind.”

Tilly shrugs nonchalantly, but her fingers tighten slightly around Margot’s. “My mom left almost as soon as I was born so I never knew her. But my papa raised me until I was eleven, so I guess I mostly got the accent from him, but we never really did any of the traditions.” Margot squeezes Tilly’s hand, hoping to be comforting. “We were really close,” Tilly explains with a soft, nostalgic smile, “It was just us against the world, you know? He was the only parent I’d ever known.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Margot murmurs, thinking of her mom and her own single parent childhood and the complicated relationship she has with the fact that she’s never known her father.

Tilly’s smile is soft as she gives Margot’s hand a comforting squeeze, returning the favour. “He died when I was eleven,” she continues. “It was,” she pauses for a long moment, and Margot starts to rub circles on the back of Tilly’s hand with her thumb, “messy, I suppose. The police think he might have been targeted by some bad people, but the police never really figured out what exactly happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Margot murmurs. “He sounds like he was a good father.”

“He was,” Tilly says, her smile quirking up fondly before it falls a little. “I bounced around foster homes after that. None of them were really that bad or anything, but no one really noticed me, not the way my papa did.”

Margot searches for something to say, but just settles on squeezing Tilly’s hand gently and offering her a soft smile when Tilly turns slightly glassy eyes on her. 

Tilly laughs breathlessly and swipes at the skin under her eyes. “That’s enough of that for a brunch date,” Tilly says.

Margot laughs a little too, the tension broken until the atmosphere is back to the easy comfort of before.

“Anyways,” Tilly continues, “I never really got much of my papa’s English-ness except for the accent. Besides,” she says flippantly, and then suddenly leans really close to Margot, close enough that Margot catches a hint of her perfume; the scent makes her head spin pleasantly. “Can I tell you a secret?” she whispers.

“Of course,” Margot whispers backs.

Tilly glances around quickly, mock dramatic. “I don’t actually like tea that much.”

Margot laughs loudly at that, her shoulders shaking and cheeks aching. Tilly’s grinning widely at her, proud to be able to make Margot laugh. Margot tugs playfully on their clasped hands. “You’re too cute,” Margot says.

A pretty blush spreads across Tilly’s cheeks as she smiles at Margot, and Margot’s heart starts pounding heavily throughout her body as she realizes that Tilly’s face is nearing hers. Margot’s eyes drop down to Tilly’s lips, and she quickly wets her own, suddenly dry, lips; Tilly’s breath hits her face, citrusy and sweet from the marmalade. Margot’s eyes are fluttering closed when Margot’s phone rings, startlingly loud in the quiet park, and causes them to jump apart. 

Margot sighs deeply at the interruption; Tilly’s face flushes darker as she giggles. Margot throws the last couple pieces of candy into her mouth before she starts digging around in her sweater pocket for her annoyingly loud phone.

“Roni,” Margot deadpans after seeing her the picture of her mom’s best friend fill the screen.

“Margot?” Roni asks, her voice almost out of breath. Wind is rushing wherever she is, loudly in the background as if she’s hurrying down a street. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Margot frowns and casts a quick look around the park, having the same feeling as she did last night when Roni called her, like Roni is somehow watching her. “It’s fine,” she lies easily. “What’s up?”

“Remy called,” Roni starts, and Margot is already inwardly groaning, “The bar got crazy busy after lunch and he needs help. I was wondering if you could come in an hour early today? I’ll let you off early too.”

Margot pulls her phone away from her ear and glances at the time in surprise. It’s already almost two, which means Tilly and her have been at the park for almost three hours; Margot brings her phone back to her ear in delighted amazement, wondering how the time could have flown by so fast. “Yeah, sure, Roni,” Margot says. “I can be there in like twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Margot,” Roni says, and then hangs up.

Margot sighs deeply and turns to Tilly with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, duty calls.”

Tilly shrugs easily. “That’s fine. Can I walk you to work though?” she asks sweetly.

Margot smiles, the butterflies in her stomach taking flight for the umpteenth time today. “Of course,” she says.

“Great,” Tilly grins and bounces up, pulling Margot with her. She lets go of Margot’s hand, seeming reluctant to do so, and bends down to start packing away the remnants of their lunch into her backpack. She dons her jacket and Margot quickly bends down to fold up the blanket before Tilly has a chance, carefully setting her daisies in the grass as she folds the blanket before grabbing them and standing back up, offering the blanket to Tilly with a bow. Tilly giggles and takes the blanket, shoving it into her backpack, before giving Margot a shy smile and taking her hand again, tangling their fingers together.

The butterflies in Margot’s stomach take up residence all throughout her body, making her nerves tingle and flutter in every atom of her being. Margot gives Tilly’s hand a gentle squeeze, smiling softly as they head for the path that leads out of the park.

They walk to Roni’s bar slowly, dragging their feet and trying to prolong the inevitable goodbye; but they still arrive at the bar far too soon for either of their likings.

Margot sighs as the door enters her line of sight, groaning dramatically and dragging her heels along the sidewalk. Tilly giggles beside her and Margot immediately smiles at the sound. “Thanks for the surprise date,” Margot says, stopping in front of the door. “I’m glad you threw rocks up at my window, Romeo,” she teases.

Tilly’s smile is bright and proud as she puffs her chest out a little. “Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow,” Tilly recites, “That I shall say good night till it be morrow.”

Margot laughs. “Why do you know _Romeo and Juliet_ so well?”

Tilly grins and tilts her head to the side. “A little thing called SparkNotes when I get _really_ bored. Plus,” she adds with a wink that sends heat rushing to Margot’s cheeks, “what kind of scoundrel throwing rocks at your window would I be if I didn’t recite at least a _little_ Shakespeare.”

Margot laughs again, shaking her head fondly only to be interrupted by the door opening suddenly behind her.

“Margot, hurry up it’s getting crazy in there and,” Roni trails off, her eyes catching on the bouquet in Margot’s hand, “What are those?”

Margot’s eyes never leave Tilly’s face, smiling at the pretty blush that spreads across her face. “Tilly gave them to me,” she says softly.

Roni’s eyes soften as she glances between the two girls. “Here,” she offers, “Give them to me, I’ll find a vase to put them in.”

Margot finally glances at Roni, catching a flash of something oddly knowing in her eyes. She hands the bouquet of daisies to Roni with a murmured _thanks_ as Roni disappears back into the bar. Margot turns back to Tilly, smiling widely at how adorable Tilly’s shy nerves are, digging the toe of her shoe into the ground and burying the hand not holding Margot’s deep into her jacket pocket.

“Hey,” Margot says softly, “I have something for you too.”

Tilly straightens up, her entire body brightening. “Oh yeah?”

Margot nods and reaches into her pocket, withdrawing the package of _Sour Patch Kids_. “For you, milady,” she says with a dramatic bow.

Tilly giggles above her as she takes the candy. “My hero,” she teases softly, “Thank you for returning these.”

Margot straightens up, not realizing how close she is to Tilly until they’re almost pressed against each other as she stands. “Anytime,” she murmurs, her voice coming out a lot softer than she originally intended.

Tilly’s eyes sparkle this close, clear and bright and endless, like Margot can taste the salt of the sea and the sky and the freedom of travelling again. Margot’s breath catches, a soft gasp caught in her chest, her eyes caught on Tilly’s mouth again. Tilly’s warm breath hits her face, and they’re so close that Margot can almost taste the citrus of Tilly’s marmalade sandwich from their picnic; Margot’s eyes flutter closed and she partially hears and partially feels Tilly take a deep breath in anticipation.

Margot’s lips practically touching Tilly’s when someone in the bar accidentally bangs their elbow against the glass of the front window and the two girls jump apart, laughing ruefully at the interruption, still joined by the hands. “Every time,” Margot complains playfully.

Tilly giggles tugging gently on Margot’s hand. “One day,” she promises.

Margot’s insides get all warm and melty, her heart fluttering and clenching at the promise. She ducks her head down and away, feeling too full of wonder to function properly, the smile on her face so wide it starts to ache at the hinge of her jaw. “One day,” she agrees. She looks up, catching Tilly’s bright blue eyes and giggling with her. “I’ll see you later,” she promises, reluctantly releasing Tilly’s hand as she turns to go into the bar.

Tilly’s smile is wide and bright, scrunching up her eyes and making it seem like she is lit from with in, her entire body seemingly buzzing. “Bye,” Tilly calls just as Margot starts to open the door.

Margot turns at the last minute to give Tilly one more bright smile. “Bye,” she calls back, giving a tiny wave as she disappears into the bar. Roni is behind the bar counter in the back, studying Margot intently, holding up the daisies in a clean vase with an almost relieved look as Margot catches her eye. Margot takes a couple steps into the bar, glancing out the front window to watch Tilly disappear down the street, both hands shoved deep in her pockets and a bright look on her face as she smiles down at her boots. Margot can’t help the wide smile that spreads across her face in return as she finally heads to the back of the bar where Roni is waiting, glancing once more at the window to catch one last glimpse of Tilly as she disappears completely from sight.

Roni looks at her knowingly as Margot flips up the countertop and slips behind the bar, but Margot couldn’t care less about the teasing she knows she’ll receive from Roni because Tilly is the best kind of surprise dates and sunshine and forever and forever and forever—

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps: I chose daises because they have a very specific meaning that fits Curious Archer so well tbh.


End file.
